


child ballad, ballad child

by acrosticacrumpet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Quests, Retelling as a Folk Tale, harry potter and the 20 folktale tropes in a trenchcoat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrosticacrumpet/pseuds/acrosticacrumpet
Summary: A boy, a dog, a sword, a heart.Or: Harry Potter if it were a folk tale told in the style of Ruth Manning-Sanders.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Sirius Black & Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	child ballad, ballad child

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas, to those of you who celebrate it! christmas always makes me think of harry potter, and also of fairy tales, so i seized the opportunity to finally finish this thing, which has been sitting around since sept 2018. it's a horrifying hybrid created as the answer to the question no-one asked (namely "what if you yanked a bunch of characters and plot elements out of hp, turned the fairy tale vibes up 1000%, and tried to merge it with the oeuvre of ruth manning-sanders") and i love it to bits.
> 
> thanks must go to my sister and to my dear friend jamie for helping me with this: you are both the absolute best
> 
> on a sadder note, jkr has been more than usually terrible on twitter recently, so this is probably a good time to put in a disclaimer that by posting a harry potter fic at this time i do NOT endorse what she's been saying in any way and in fact totally disagree with it!
> 
>  **warnings:** because of the specific folk tale tropes that appear (and a hp plot element i included), one brief point in the story includes what might look like suicidal ideation. it isn't - and there is no suicide of any kind - but please look after your mental health first, and if you need details on what exactly happens and where to skip, check the end notes. there is also some non-graphic animal harm in keeping with what you might find in a fairy or folk tale.

Once there was a boy who was an orphan. His parents had died when he was very young, and he lived in the house of his aunt and uncle. Now maybe it was because he wasn’t their own child; or maybe it was because he had a strange look to him, a small boy, with dark, dark hair, and green, green eyes. But whatever the reason, his aunt and uncle didn’t like him. When it was mealtime, they gave first to their own son, and not to him. When it was night-time, they gave their own son a fine feather bed to sleep in, and to him a bare garret. And their own son had no work to do, but our boy worked so long in the kitchen, and in the garden, and on the farm, that he hardly had time to sleep.

So what with one thing and another, it’s not surprising that he said to himself when he came of age, ‘Well, it’s no use my staying here any longer.’

He didn’t ask his aunt and uncle for their blessing: that wouldn’t have been any use. He did ask them for some food for the journey, and all they gave him was one hunk of stale bread. So the boy had to be content with that, and he set off with his knapsack on his back and the bread in his hand.

He hadn’t gone far along the road – though it was further than he’d ever gone before – when he came face to face with a huge black dog. It was a great hulking brute with wild black fur, and for a moment the boy felt frightened.

But then he saw that under its wild, ragged fur, the dog was very thin; and it was staring at the hunk of bread in his hand as if it was very hungry. Well – the boy knew what it was to be hungry. Hadn’t he gone hungry most days of his life? So he held out the bread, and said, “Here, boy, you can have it.”

The dog took the bread and wolfed it down all at once. Then it began to follow the boy, though he hadn’t any food left to offer it. And when he came to a fork in the road, the dog would nudge him one way or the other, as if it had strong opinions on the matter.

After a long day of walking like this, they came to an inn. The dog barked loudly, and the innkeeper came running out. The boy meant to offer to do some work in exchange for a place to stay; but before he could say a word, the innkeeper had grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, with the dog running after.

“Eh, lad!” he said, puffing and panting, “what brings you here, so far from your home? Don’t you know that a Deathless One rules these parts?”

“A Deathless One?” said the boy. He had never been so far from his uncle’s farm before, and many things were strange to him.

“He flies out each night,” the innkeeper said, “in search of human flesh. And he likes foreigners the best.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said the boy. And the dog looked pleased to hear this – as much as a dog can.

From that day on the boy and the dog travelled together through the Deathless One’s lands. When they came to a fork in the path, the dog would nudge the boy this way or that, and they’d go the way the dog chose. Some nights they found an inn to stay at, and the boy would find a little work in exchange for a hunk of bread and a bed for the night. Some nights they slept outside under the boy’s thin cloak. And some nights the dog would quickly pull the boy down behind a bank, or into the hollow behind a rock, with its teeth fixed in his sleeve, and keep him there while a dark shadow flew overhead; and the boy knew that was the Deathless One looking for meat.

One day, they came to a broad plain, with nothing but grass as far as the eye could see. Every now and then as they walked they would come to a lone house, but for the most part it was a wide, lonely place. But for the one path across it, it looked like a great green sea. The boy and the dog walked a good half a day across it with barely a change – and then the boy saw something that looked like fire far off, a spark of red flame.

At first he thought it was the beginning of a grass fire, but it wasn’t spreading at all, but staying in the same place. ‘What can that be?’ said the boy to himself, and he left the path to go and look, with the dog padding along behind.

They came closer and closer, and lo and behold! it was the head of a boy, with hair as red as fire, sticking out of the earth.

“Hello!” he said, as they reached him. “I’ve been calling and calling for years, but no-one heard me.”

“How did you get stuck in the earth?” said the boy, when he had got over his shock.

“The Deathless One put me here,” said the red-haired boy. “I was out on the road, and he thought to snatch me up and eat me; but I fought back, and struck him across the face. He didn’t like that. So he sank me down into the earth up to my neck and left me here, and here I have been ever since.”

The boy looked at the earth around the red-haired boy’s neck. It looked as if it would take time and hard work to dig him out. But he was no stranger to hard work, raised by his aunt and uncle. “Wait here,” he said, “while I go and get a spade.”

“That’s alright by me,” said the red-haired boy. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

The boy and his dog went back to one of the houses they had passed along the way, and borrowed a spade. It was a long walk, and it was longer work digging the red-haired boy out of the earth, even with the dog helping as much as it could. By the end of it, our boy was exhausted, and the spade shook in his hands. But at last the red-haired boy clambered out of the pit and stood on his own two feet again.

“You’ve helped me more than I can ever repay,” he said. He pulled a lock of blazing red hair from his head, and handed it to the boy. “Keep this with you, and when you hold it and call for help, I’ll come to your aid, no matter where you are.”

“Thank you,” said the boy, putting the lock of hair safely in his pocket. Then the red-haired boy disappeared.

Night followed day, and day followed night, and the boy and his dog walked on together until they came to the end of the plain. And not more than a few days after that, they came to a great forest, with trees so tall you could barely see the top of them. When the wind moved through them, they made a sound like a great sea.

The boy and the dog walked together through the forest for a long time. There was only one path through it, sunk deep into the ground. As they walked, the boy gazed upwards at the trees. Then he squinted. What was that? A nest?

But when he scrambled up onto a rock for a better look, then lo and behold! it was the head of a girl, with bushy, bushy hair. She was high in a tree and clinging onto it for dear life, and he could just faintly hear her calling out, “Help, help!”

Well, and hadn’t he climbed many a tree in his life, hiding away from his cousin’s fists and laughter? He leapt off the rock and began to climb the tree towards her. It was so tall that he had to stop many times to catch his breath, and there were splinters in his hands when he reached the girl.

“Thank heaven!” she said, when she saw him. “I’ve been up here for years, but no-one could hear me calling.”

“How did you get up here?” he said.

“The Deathless One put me here,” said the girl. “I was a foreigner passing through, and he thought to eat me, but I fought back. I struck him across the face, and he didn’t like it much. So he carried me up here and left me, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Let’s get you down,” said the boy.

“I’m agreeable to that,” she said.

It took a long time, and twice as many splinters, but he helped her slowly climb down from the tree, while the dog watched anxiously from the foot of it. When she got to the ground she laughed for joy. “You’ve helped me more than I can ever repay,” she said. She pulled a lock of her bushy brown hair from her head, and handed it to the boy. “Here’s something to keep by you, and when you hold it and call for help, I’ll always come to your aid.”

“Thank you,” said the boy, wondering if it was the custom in these parts to give people locks of hair for favours; and he put it in his pocket. Then the bushy-haired girl disappeared.

Night followed day, and day followed night, and the boy and his dog walked on together. They came to the end of the forest. And not more than a few days after that, they came to a wild heath, and a great mountain. The boy thought to turn aside and look for some place where people lived; but the dog nudged at him, and tugged at his sleeve, until at last he started up the side of the mountain.

Halfway up the mountain was a lake, and by that lake the boy and his dog rested that night. As it grew dark, the dog tugged the boy down to lie close to the ground, hidden in the shadow of the peak. The boy looked up and saw a dark shape fly over the mountain, down towards the valley where the people lived. And he knew that was the Deathless One looking for meat.

“Dog,” said the boy, when the danger had passed, “I don’t think I like this Deathless One, who sinks people into the ground, and leaves people in trees, and kills by night.”

“And no more you should!” said a voice out of nowhere.

Out of nowhere? No, out of somewhere, indeed: out of the middle of the lake, where an island was floating. On the island was a man with long, long hair and a long, long beard; and both his hair and his beard were white, white as the full moon, and shining just as bright. He was the man who had spoken.

“No more you should, my boy,” he said again, as the boy stood up and looked at him. “For it was the Deathless One who killed your parents.”

Well, at that the boy had to sit down again, or else fall over. He had never even known his parents’ names, let alone how they died. “He killed my parents?” he said. And the dog whined sadly next to him.

“Yes, he killed them,” said the old man sadly. “He killed them and took their castle for his own. I tried to stop him, so he cast me out onto this island and left me here, and here I have been ever since.”

“Can’t you swim across the water?” said the boy.

The old man shook his head. “The water is poison to me,” he said. “There is no way out while the Deathless One lives. Be advised by me, my boy – stay well hidden, and far away from him. For if ever he finds you, he will know whose son you are, and he will kill you in the twinkling of an eye.”

“Is there no way to slay him, and free you?” the boy said. He didn’t much like the thought of running and hiding all his life. And didn’t he know what it was to be trapped, and hate it?

“I have heard tell,” said the old man, “that there is no sword but one that can kill him. And that one is the Lion Sword, and no man knows where it lies. But even if you had it, it would do you no good. For the Deathless One has hidden his heart, and as long as it lies hidden, he cannot be killed. And you may be certain he has never told any man where he hid it.”

“ _I_ will find the Lion Sword,” said the boy, “even if it takes me the rest of my days. And _I_ will find the heart of the Deathless One, and kill it. And now” – he said, for the dog was pulling at him to lie down and rest – “I will sleep.”

So he slept. In the morning he woke, and there was the sun on the mountain, and the dog beside him, and the old man still on the island.

“Old father,” said the boy, “I’m going now, to find the sword that can kill the Deathless One. But I ask for your blessing before I go.”

The old man looked at him sadly. He did not think the boy would succeed, but he knew there was nothing he could say to change the boy’s mind.

“If you must go,” he said, “know this. Though I do not know where the Lion Sword is, I know one thing about it. The one who takes it must be as brave as any lion – not one who turns and runs, nor one who cries out in fear. So if you find it, have a care that fear does not turn you back, or cause you to cry out. And now go, my son, and go with my blessing.”

“Thank you,” said the boy. And with that, he and his dog walked back down the mountain.

Now the boy was used to the dog hinting him where to go, with a nudge of the nose here, and a tug on the sleeve there, just as if it were asking him to go a certain way. But if it had been asking before, it was outright _demanding_ now. It pushed him this way, it pulled him that way, it herded him as if he were a strayed sheep.

“Well, I suppose you know what you’re doing,” said the boy doubtfully, and he went where the dog wanted him to go.

Night followed day, and day followed night, and the boy and his dog walked on together. As evening fell, they came to a house upon a hill. There was a great cat’s head above the door, which the boy thought strange. And if that was strange, it was stranger still when the door opened by itself, without the need of knocking. And if _that_ was strange, it was strangest of all when the dog sat down on the ground and refused to move.

“What’s the matter, dog?” said the boy; “don’t you want to go in?”

No, the dog did not want to go in! But it wanted him to go in, and go in at once, if its head nodding and its tail pushing at him were any indication.

“Very well, then,” said the boy: “I’ll go in alone.” He had never been without the dog since he first met it, and he did not like it. But in he went.

What should he see, when he went in, but a dark room, with one path through it, and hundreds of little lights moving in the darkness? ‘This is a strange place,’ said the boy to himself, as he went on through the room. And as he walked, he saw that the little lights were the eyes of cats: hundreds of cats, prowling around and staring at him.

The boy did not like this much. But, “I won’t be frightened,” said he, and he walked on. “I’ve seen the Deathless One on dark nights, and that was worse than this.”

He walked straight on to the next door. Through that door was another dark room, and the darkness was swimming with burning lamps. And as he walked, he saw that the burning lamps were the eyes of great wildcats, stalking across the floor and glaring at him.

The boy liked this not at all. But, “There’s nothing to fear here,” he said, and he walked on. “The Deathless One flew over my head just the other night – this can’t be any worse.”

And on he went into the next room. This room was pitch black, too, but it seemed to the boy as if blazing suns were roaming about in it. And as he walked, he saw that the suns were the eyes of huge lions, padding about the room. They let out a low growling noise as he approached, and though they never came near him, their gaze was terrible.

The boy felt almost sure he was going to be killed and eaten. But, “I’ll walk where I choose,” he said, boldly. “Better to be killed by lions than by the Deathless One.” And he remembered what the old man had told him, and walked straight forward, without ever looking back or crying out.

The last door led him into a warm, well-lit room. On the wall of that room hung a sword, the like of which the boy had never seen. It shone silver in the light, and its hilt was set with rubies that blazed like suns. “The Lion Sword!” said the boy to himself.

And what creature was in this room? No lion, no great wildcat, but a little grey tabby cat with green eyes – not prowling about the room, but sitting quietly and watching him.

“Meow-ow,” said the cat.

“Is this really the Lion Sword?” said the boy.

“Meow-ow,” said the cat, which meant _Yes_.

“And can I take it?”

“Meow-ow,” the cat said, meaning, _What for?_

“To kill the Deathless One, who sinks people into the ground, and leaves them up in trees, and kills by night, as he killed my parents.”

“Meow-ow,” said the cat, and that meant, _I’d like nothing better._ She gave a little nod, and stepped to the side. And the boy took the sword down from the wall, and put it in a sheath that was lying on the floor, and buckled it onto his belt.

He walked back through the room of lions, and they bowed their heads, and were silent. And he walked back through the room of wildcats, and they gathered in rows to watch him. And he walked back through the room of housecats, and they came up to him and twined around his legs as he went. But what he liked best was how when he came out of the house with the sword on his belt, the dog came bounding up to him, its tail wagging wildly, and almost knocked him over for joy.

Night followed day, and day followed night, and the boy and his dog walked on together. They came down from the hill of the Lion House, towards the valleys and fields where the people of the Deathless One’s land lived.

“Dog,” said the boy, “if we’re to kill the Deathless One, we must find out where he keeps his heart.” And the dog nodded its head solemnly.

So on they went, through fields and farmland, and into villages and towns. Often the dog had to pull the boy down to hide in a ditch, when it grew dark, for fear that the Deathless One should see him. And when they slept in inns or houses, often the boy had to hide beneath the bed at night, in case the Deathless One should fly past the window.

But no matter where they went, and no matter how hard he listened, the boy could never get to hear anything of where the Deathless One kept his heart – until it began to seem that the old man on the mountain had been right, and the Deathless One had told no man.

“I might as well go to the castle and ask the Deathless One himself!” said the boy bitterly.

The dog whined at him. Go to the castle? No, no, that would surely be the death of him! But the more the boy thought about it, the more he wondered if it might work. He was small, and would be easy to kill; but then the castle was large, and would be easy to hide in. And if the Deathless One was fearsome, and death to his enemies – well, then the Deathless One would never expect his enemy to come so close.

So the boy and the dog walked on together, towards the great castle that lay on the horizon. They walked by day, and they hid by night, for many days and many nights. At last, as night was falling, they came to the castle gates. And the gates were made of iron, and as tall and strong as tree trunks.

“We’ll never get in this way,” said the boy. “Perhaps there’s a smaller gate at the back.” And he and the dog crept around the castle walls, until they came to the other side.

But the castle walls were closely guarded, and the boy and his dog had to hide in a thicket nearby, lest they be seen. They crouched down low and watched, and they saw a dark shape leap from the battlements and fly into the night sky.

“Curse the Deathless One!” said the boy to his dog. “May he fly into a thorn-tree and get stuck there.”

“Yes, and may he never come back!” said a voice from close by. And when the boy and the dog looked to see who had spoken – why, who should they see but a little grass snake, lying in the grass beside them.

Now as it happened, our boy had once saved the life of a snake, when he was very young. His cousin had been tormenting it, and the boy had got it away from him and set it free; and in exchange, it had given him the gift of speech with snakes. That was how he could understand the grass snake, and the grass snake could understand him.

“Good evening to you,” said the boy politely.

“A good evening, when the Deathless One is away,” said the grass snake. “And a better evening if your curse comes true and he sticks in a thorn tree. But the best evening of all would be if someone were to kill him dead! That’s what _I_ think.”

“I think so too,” said the boy. “But why do you hate him so? Is he cruel to snakes?”

“Not to the big ones,” the grass snake said. “The big strong ones he likes; but the little ones, like me, he kills for sport. He’s killed a good many of my friends that way. And if I were big and strong, I would kill him dead.”

“Many a big and strong man has tried to kill the Deathless One, and failed,” said the boy, who had heard tales of them on his journey.

“Ah! but I know something none of them knew. I know where the secret heart of the Deathless One is, for I hear his pet snakes boasting about it. And if I were big instead of small, I would go straight there, and destroy it.”

“Why don’t you tell me where it is?” said the boy. “I can walk further than you can crawl. Maybe I can do you a good turn.”

“The Deathless One’s heart lies in the great forest to the south, hidden in the roots of the tallest tree in the forest,” said the grass snake. “And if you go there and destroy it, you’ll be doing me the best turn anybody could. But take care! It will take many different shapes, and you must kill all of them, until the last one turns to dust.”

“Then that is what I’ll do,” said the boy. And with that he lay down in the grass and slept.

Day followed night, and night followed day, and the boy and his dog walked on together. After many days and many nights, they came to the great forest to the south, where a river ran. And the tallest tree in it was so tall that the top of it could hardly be seen.

“This must be the place,” said the boy to the dog. So they hunted all round the roots of the tree, the boy peering closely and the dog sniffing around. And what did they find hidden in the roots? A huge, shining egg.

The boy picked the egg up, and he saw that the dog was growling at it, and the dog’s ears were flat back on its head. “Yes,” he said, “this must be the heart of the Deathless One.”

He put it down on a tree stump, and lifted the Lion Sword from its sheath. “Here goes,” he said.

Down came the sword, and it struck true. But look! the egg was moving, it was breaking open, it was changing – and suddenly there was a great serpent in its place, leaping at the boy with its fangs ready to bite.

“Oh no you don’t!” said the boy, and he leapt aside and swung with the sword.

He struck true, and the blade went clean through the serpent’s neck – but what was this? The snake’s coils were shifting, it was changing shape – and suddenly there was a badger where the serpent had been, springing at him and clawing at him, and its strong jaws opening to bite.

“Not so fast!” said our boy, and the sword flashed in his hand.

The Lion Sword struck true, but even as it struck the badger was shifting, changing, and its fur was becoming feathers – and suddenly there was an eagle before the boy, flying at him with its sharp talons and its wicked beak.

“You won’t get me that way!” cried the boy, as he sprang aside and swung the sword once more.

Again he struck true, but what was this? The eagle was shrinking, the feathers were turning back to fur – and suddenly it had become a rat, which scurried away as quick as it could, so that neither the boy nor the dog could catch it. They chased it as far as they could, but it scurried into a hole in some tree roots, and could not be got out.

“Now what are we to do?” said the boy hopelessly, and he sheathed the Lion Sword, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

And what did he find in his pockets? A lock of hair as red as flame – and all at once he remembered the red-haired boy who had been sunk in the ground.

“Help, help!” cried our boy, and in a flash the red-haired boy was standing before him.

“What’s the matter?” said the red-haired boy.

“The heart of the Deathless One is in among those tree roots in the shape of a rat, and I can’t get it out, no matter what I do.”

“That’s easily sorted,” the red-haired boy said. “Watch this” – and he changed himself into a terrier. And that terrier growled and snapped at the rat, and chased it out from among the tree roots, and caught it.

“Thank you,” said the boy to the terrier. Then he lifted the Lion Sword and struck the rat with it, and the rat began to change shape into something strange and slippery, something with scales instead of fur – and suddenly it had become a fish, which jumped into the river in one great leap and was gone.

Oh, didn’t they comb that river! The boy reached down with his hands, and the black dog and the terrier trampled in with their paws, but the fish swam into the deepest flood where they couldn’t reach, and there was nothing they could do.

“Not again!” said the boy in despair, and he sheathed the Lion Sword, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

But what was in his pockets? What else but a lock of brown hair, as bushy as a bird’s nest! In an instant the boy remembered the bushy-haired girl who had been stuck up a tree.

He took out the lock of hair and cried “Help, help!”, and in a flash there was the bushy-haired girl standing before him.

“What’s wrong?” said she.

“The heart of the Deathless One is in that river in the shape of a fish, and I can’t get it out again, no matter what I do.”

“Is that all?” she said. “Why, that’s easy” – and she changed herself into an otter. And that otter swam down into the depths of the river as quick as you please, and caught the fish, and brought it back up to them.

“Thank you,” said the boy to the otter. Then he lifted up the Lion Sword again and struck the fish with it.

But something very strange happened when the sword struck the fish. The fish began to change, and its scales became skin, and it grew tall with hands and feet – and suddenly there was the boy’s own mirror image, staring back at him.

“Kill me, then, if you can!” it said, and laughed.

Not when he was hiding from the Deathless One, not when he was walking through the room full of lions, not even when he was crouching near the Deathless One’s castle, had the boy ever felt so afraid. How could he kill someone with his own face? But even as the mirror-image laughed at him, he slowly lifted the Lion Sword.

He struck, and he struck true – and as the Lion Sword touched it, the mirror image crumbled into dust. And the boy fell to his knees and wept for joy, for he knew that the Deathless One was dead at last.

(And at that very instant, the old man on the island became a phoenix, a bird of flame, and flew away; and the tabby cat in the Lion House became a tall, proud woman again.)

The red-haired boy and the bushy-haired girl were laughing, and dancing a jig together. But the black dog came up close to the boy, and patted him with its paw, and said in a man’s voice: “Well done, my boy – oh, well done!”

The boy stared in wonder.

“You have done a great thing,” said the black dog, “and I am so proud of you. But now, I must ask one more thing of you.”

“Anything!” said the boy, remembering everything the dog had done for him.

“Take your sword,” the black dog said, “and cut off my head.”

Cut off its head? Surely not! “Oh no, no, my dog, not that! Anything else but that! How can you ask me to cut off your head?”

“It is all I want,” said the dog. “Take up the Lion Sword again, and strike true!”

“Is there nothing else I can give you?” cried the boy.

But the black dog would not be swayed. “Nothing but this,” it said. “Cut off my head, and I shall have my reward.”

The boy took the sword from his sheath, and now he was weeping tears of sorrow. And he lifted the sword over his head, and he wept harder still. And he closed his eyes tight shut as he brought the Lion Sword down on the dog’s neck, and felt the sword begin to strike.

And suddenly – there was nothing touching the sword. And what should the boy feel then, but a man’s hands wiping the tears from his face? And what should he hear, but the same man’s voice he had just heard, saying gently, “Don’t cry, my boy, don’t cry”? And when he opened his eyes, a tall, dark-haired man stood before him where the dog had been.

“I don’t understand!” said the boy.

“I am your godfather,” said the dark-haired man. “The Deathless One turned me into a dog long ago, and cursed me so that only a blow from the Lion Sword could change me back. But now the Deathless One is dead, and you have freed me. And the castle your parents once had is yours, if you want it.”

Did the boy want it? Of course he did! He and his godfather went straight there, and gathered there all who had been friends to them. They lived there in happiness, and it has never been said that they were parted.

**Author's Note:**

>  **more detailed warnings:** harry is forced to kill his own mirror image towards the end of the story. to skip this, jump from "But something very strange happened" to "the Deathless One was dead at last". almost immediately afterwards, sirius-as-dog asks harry to cut off sirius' head, and is very insistent about it. he doesn't die - the purpose is to break a spell - but harry doesn't know this at the time. to skip this, jump from "You have done a great thing" to "And suddenly - there was nothing touching the sword". 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
